Everything And Nothing
by Jamie L. Vaughan
Summary: Welcoming the hands of death even years after the disaster he created, Erik finds that not everything remains broken. The mistakes of the past can be fixed and guilt can finally be laid to rest. R
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: _This piece is the product of an RPG entitled Forgotten, that I have been working on with a friend of mine, LiYoung on FFN. I felt that it would make a pretty interesting story so I decided to adapt it into a fanfiction. It is set 5 years after the only performance of "Don Juan Triumphant" and Erik's past is Kay-based. Point of view will primarily be Erik's, however some chapters may call for a shift in POVs. Reviews and constructive criticism are both loved and encouraged. :)_**

**Disclaimer:_ The character of Claude, who will appear in future chapters, is based upon a character created by LiYoung._** **  
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Prologue**

My soul had left me the last time I saw her face. She had choosen me, in exchange for her lover's life. She had been a martyr for that boy, and for a time, she truly belonged to me. However, the thought of having her internally cursing me for the rest of her days, becoming an emotionless zombie, while her heart and mind longed for **him**, was something I couldn't bear to live with. If I couldn't have her as my living bride, then I didn't want to sacrifice herself to me out of pity. I let her flee from my life as quickly as she had entered it. As I looked upon her beauty for those last few moments, I could have sworn that there was a sense of sadness in her eyes, however the mind can play tricks.

Christine was everything to me, and the memories of her beauty and her voice would never leave my mind. She deserved better than me, how could I have expected an angel such as her to be forever bonded to a creature like myself. My own mother had hated and neglected me, why did I expect her to be any different? After she left me, I allowed myself to be sucked into a dark abyss of my mind, where I was blinded by my own rage and depression. I destroyed most of my lair; ruining the trivial, material possessions I had aquired over the decades. My persian rugs, jewels, trinkets, daguerreotypes, paintings, inventions, nearly everything. What use would such things have for me, except to rot after I was gone? I destroyed my organ and violin, Christine came into my life through music, so I thought it best to completely remove my connection to it. I burned sheet music, including my magnum opus, my _Don Juan Triumphant_.

The only area left untouched in my hysteria was Christine's bedroom. As much as she had wounded me, I couldn't bare to destroy it. I took the wedding veil she had left and tossed it onto her bed, taking one last look at what I still had left of my Christine. Her bed sheets were in disarray from where she had slept, a dress lay over her vanity chair, her brushes and combs contained strands of hair from use. I left it all untouched, and turned my back on it all for good, locking the door and tossing the key in the lake. I retreated to my bedroom, and stayed there for days, abstaining from eating, from living, and waited for death.

My Daroga had been present through all of it. I blamed him for getting involved and leading that boy to me. If he hadn't meddled in my affairs, things would have worked, Christine would still be in my life. I would have killed him, should have killed him...but it would have accomplished nothing except to provide more work for me. So instead I decided to kill myself, make myself responsible for my own demise. I already hated myself for the abomination that I was. Everyone I had ever known had grown to hate me and Christine's rejection was the final nail in the coffin. I wanted to make myself suffer, prolong my agony and allow myself to wallow in my own grief. But my Daroga wouldn't allow it and felt the need to save me from myself once again.

He cleaned up my mess, forced me to eat, cared for me when I was ill from lack of nourishment. He assured my managers that the Opera Ghost was dead, and even offered to pay for the reconstruction of the chandelier. The Phantom of the Opera was no more. I was but a mere memory and after five years, the truth of the story became legend which in turn developed into myth. I never existed, even those who I had tormented put the thought of me so far in the back of their mind that they wondered if they had just imagined the whole thing. It seemed that he was doing a better job at making me suffer than I was. The longer I lived, the more I would grow to hate what I had done and what I was. My Daroga had erased me from the world, he had succeed where others had failed and I both admired and hated him all the more for it.

He insisted that I live out the rest of my days in peace, as if it were really possible. He had my organ repaired, replaced much of my furniture, supplied me with food and clothes; he became almost a nursemaid to me. He took it upon himself to move in with me to watch over me, making sure that I wouldn't do harm to myself, like there was much more to do in the first place. I tolerated his presence, amused him with nightly games of chess and played my organ when he asked me. I could be quite obedient when I wanted to be, a trait instilled in me in my youth. However my pessimism and cynical state of mind never left me, and as the years wore on I hated everything and everyone and willed that it all be over soon. Whether my Daroga would allow such a thing was doubtful but he knew that if my will was strong enough, even he wouldn't be able to stop me.


	2. The Game

**Author's Note: _Nice long chapter for your enjoyment, thanks for the reviews and for those who haven't reviewed yet, thanks for reading:)_**

**Disclaimer:_ The character of Claude, who will appear in future chapters, is based upon a character created by LiYoung._**

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**Chapter 1 - The Game  
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I sat in silence amongst the many flickering candles in my drawing room. I had just finished re-reading _Salammbô_ and now sat alone, bored once again. I now turned my attention to the candles spread all about the room. Their flames hypnotizing me with their glow as their shadows danced across the room. So beautiful, yet so deadly; as was everything in life. I could have gone to sleep, but I wasn't tired. In the past I would have fiddled on a new sonata or other orchestration. But the need to please my muse had been sucked out of me, I played for no real need other than to please my "nursemaid".

Nadir was out, as he usually was during the week. According to his ramblings the opera was apparently premiering a new piece and, as their most generous patron, he was expected to be there. I, of course, couldn't attend; but it was probably for the best. Without my guiding hand, the opera had no doubt lost its grandeor, its respectability. I saw to it that they hired singers who were above adequate, dancers who flew across the stage instead of merely fluttered. I made the opera what it was, though they still at times deceived me. A pretty face does not a singer make. Though they were notorious for attempting to hire pretty girls to strut upon my stage than singers who could bring these operas to life.

Nadir attempted to quench my curiosity by describing to me the performances he saw. "Good", "Splendid", "Wonderful", adjectives that he tossed around consistently. One could find those descriptions at any brothel or salon. He was always merely entertained, never changed. It depressed me even more, to the point where I would just block him out. Why tell me, when he wouldn't allow me the power to change it. My heart ached heavily for the days of my power upon this place. But the Opera Ghost was dead and so was my dream for theatrical perfection.

A loud clunk turned my attention to the door, a swift draft causing the candles to flicker wildly for a moment. The small frame of my Daroga frantically closing the door and removing his top hat and cloak. He started to quietly head into his room, he must not have seen me.

"Back rather early for a premiere..." my voice echoed softly around us. Nadir looked up timidly, surprised to see my large form sitting diagonal from where he stood.

"Ah, Erik! I thought that you had turned in for the evening," my Daroga said, a friendly smile planted on his face.

"I sleep enough."

"Well, the performance went along quite well. The new contralto they hired is quite wonderful. I thought she was in fact a young boy by the way she sang, especially since she was playing one. It wasn't until I checked my program again and asked Monsieur Béjart, that I realized she was the new singer they had been raving about. I think she'll be quite successful here. Mademoiselle Falcon, was in good form tonight as well, she really stole the show. There was a bit of a problem with the ballet in Act one, apparently the costumes weren't made correctly...or something or other. Anyway, the girls kept tripping on them, threw the whole thing off. But they recovered nicely and received a gracious applause from the house for their efforts..."

Nadir continued to ramble on and on about the evening as he lit more candles, tidied up the place and got himself a glass of brandy. After the first two minutes I didn't even bother to listen anymore, focusing instead on the way he hurried around the room like a little squirrel; gathering things and putting them away, it was quite amusing.

"Overall it was a splendid performance," he finished finally, sitting in the armchair next to mine. I nodded and smiled underneath my mask in an unseen attempt to humor him.

"Well then, it seems that with my lack of involvement, things are going quite well," I said making my way towards the liquor cabinet, "Curious thing, that."

"Erik-"

I put up a hand to silence him.

"Just an observation and nothing more Daroga." My glass was nearly halfway full of the dark substance before I capped it and put it away. The aroma was delightful, it was a wonder I didn't drink more often. I slowly made my way back to my chair and sitting took a sip. Nadir had been one of the few people who had ever witnessed me eat and drink with my mask. It was a difficult process and not one I liked to do in public. In fact he was perhaps the only one who had ever seen it.

"I will admit that...the quality of things...isn't what it used to be; and it is probably for the best. You, yourself, should know that the perfection you require is far greater than what 'normal' people can possibly achieve." He stared at me with sympathetic eyes. He was telling me more than words could say. If he only knew how much his logic annoyed me sometimes. I turned my head away from him, taking a long sip from my glass. The slight burning sensation cascaded down my throat, leaving me with a warm feeling.

The silence that passed between felt like an eternity. I looked at the small clock on the mantel, 12:07. Years ago I would have been seeing that no one from the performance after-parties had wandered too far into the cellars or going on a leisurely stroll around the city to various taverns in search of something entertaining; or my mind would be set on something in particular...someone.The thought of a walk suddenly sounded like a good idea.

"I did what I had to Erik...it couldn't have gone on forever." Nadir spoke suddenly. His accented voice full of guilt and understanding. I looked at him then, truly looked at him. The years had done their damage to him, as with anyone, though the his youthfulness was still primarily intact. His hair had become peppered with grey, accenting the natural black color in certain areas. He had become thinner than when I had known him in Persia. His face had gained some wrinkles here and there, though they were only really evident when he smiled. His eyes were what gave away his age, all he had seen throughout the course of his life: the death of a wife, a son, exile, the tragedy of the monster that sat before him. The moment long ago when I had given to him a dead son came flooding back to me.

"Assume a virtue, if you have not." I muttered, barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"How about a game of chess?"

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We sat in a tense silence as we played. It was usually Nadir who had insisted we play a game of chess, in an effort to bring me out of my seclusion. It was such a dull contrast to my antics of the past. However I always tried to humored him, allowing him to occasionally win against me, because for as often as the man played the game, he truly wasn't very good. 

"Your move" He said to me, taking another sip of his drink. I sat back in the arm chair staring at him.

"Why are you doing this Daroga?" I asked, my eyes still on him as I moved one of my pawns. My lips formed the question before my mind fully comprehended why I decided to say it.

"What? What do you mean?" He asked, a confused look across his face, "We're playing a game of chess." He muttered, concentrating on where he was going to move next.

"I'm not talking about the game Nadir. I mean what are you doing here, why have you so taken it upon yourself to...assist me?" It was a question I had wanted to ask for years, but never found the opportune moment and, what can I say, my curiosity had been peaked. I watched as he slowly moved his rooks across the board. When he was satisfied he looked back up at me sternly.

"You could not have cared for yourself, Erik. In the state...in the state she left you in...well look at what you did to your home after she left." I leaned in closer to the board, my eyes burning into his and captured his recently moved rook with one of my knights.

"What made you believe I wanted help? Perhaps I didn't want to live out the rest of my days at all. Perhaps I didn't want to have to remember what happened day after day. Perhaps I wanted to forget." I wanted questions to my answers, all of them. Because of him I had sacrificed an existence that I had become quite comfortable in. It was how I saw my life ending, but now it was never going to be the same. Why I was questioning this now was a mystery to me. Perhaps I was fed up with the subject of the opera being consitently brought up into conversation or perhaps, like a child, I was curious.

He continued staring at me, his emotion unchanging. My Daroga had conditioned himself quite wonderfully how to act in my presence. He turned his attention back to the game, moving a pawn and stealing one of my own.

"So you wanted to die then?" His voice was almost mocking.

"Maybe I did, perhaps I still do. Hell maybe I really don't, but the **point** is Nadir, I wanted the choice." I moved my bishop again.

"Well, if you wanted to die then what is stopping you. You know as well as I that you could have taken your own life years ago. If you **really** had wanted to, you would have done it." He moved his knight forward and took another sip of brandy. My Daroga was testing me, he was just as clever as I knew he could be. I chuckled softly.

"Perhaps I should, I mean what else am I expected to do day in and day out...play chess with you? I can't go above into the opera anymore, you did a fine job of taking that away from me-" I could feel the pent up rage beginning to brim over within me, it was a release I apparently didn't know I needed.

"Oh and I suppose you would have wanted me not to tell them anything? So you could saunter about the opera, scaring ballerinas and terrorizing the managers into giving you wages again? As much as you hate to admit it, whether you truly wanted to die or not, I saved your life at risk of losing my own! I gave you the choice to do what you wanted! You could have had a mob beat you to death and destroy your home, or you could go ahead and kill yourself! Hell choose to live like a normal human being for all I care! But don't go throwing accusations at me that you know damn well can easily be controlled by you!" I stared at him, in awe. He had never had the courage to speak to me in such a manner. Yet as much as I had angered him, his words had hit me hard and I knew that if I stayed any longer I would probably do something I would regret.

"I see where you stand on the matter my dear Daroga." I said, calmly rising from my chair and walking to my bedroom. I didn't need to look to see the confusion on his face. I returned in an instant with a cloak and hat.

"Where the hell are you going?" He asked me, steadily rising from his own arm chair. My earlier idea of a walk had struck my fancy.

"Out." I said nonchalantly heading for the door, in an instant he blocked my exit.

"I can't let you just go out! You can't...where are you going?" Whatever anger had been in him, quickly left as he nervously stood between me and the door, awaiting for what I was going to do.

"I'm taking your advice, living like "a normal human being". And **normal** human beings go for walks, do they not?"

"Yes, but Eri-"

"You said you gave me the choice, so this is what I choose to do, and whether you like it or not I'm going to do as I please." He backed away from me slightly, his own words had been thrust back upon him. I wondered if he regretted them in that moment. Without another look I opened the door and was about to take a step out before he summoned me.

"Erik...we have not finished our game." He said, his demeanor like that of a small child. I turned back, my cloak turning with me in one smooth motion. I smiled at him and approached the board again. I took a few seconds and looked at the pieces. I moved my queen, then handed him the piece I had stolen.

"Checkmate!" I said, smiling and left. I knew what Nadir was thinking, he thought that he had some sort of control over me, but he had just learned that he didn't. I controlled myself, and in a way, I also controlled him.

It was the first time I had been out of my home in months. It was a part of not wanting to, as well as the fear Nadir had about me being seen. But I had to escape, if only for a few hours, before my pent up emotions would have gotten the best of me.

Once outside the cool air swept underneath my mask and hit my face, shocking my underexposed skin. The sensation was delightful to say the least. I decided to head into the poorer section of the city where no one would give me a second look and the absence of street lamps would conceal me.


End file.
